An Accidental Husband
by jakela
Summary: Bored in the library, Leon Tao makes a single change to a database record, but what was meant to be a joke changes everything for John and Joss. AU due to the premise, bad IT, bad science and some OOC moments. This story contains spoilers from season two episodes The Contingency, Critical and Prisoner's Dilemma, but details, timelines and events may vary or unfold differently.
1. Chapter 1

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 1

A/N: Bored in the library, Leon Tao makes a single change to a database record, but what was meant to be a joke changes everything for John and Joss.

AU due to the premise, bad IT, bad science and some OOC moments. This story notes events from season one and contains spoilers from season two episodes The Contingency, Critical and Prisoner's Dilemma, but details, timelines and events may vary or unfold differently.

The usual disclaimers: Nothing you recognize belongs to me.

Leon Tao knew he couldn't touch any other financial stuff, but he had to do something_ – _he was stuck in this wreck of a building with a bunch of ramen noodles and a dog.

He'd pulled together the items that Finch and Reese had asked for, but that was hours ago, and Leon was getting antsy – and bored.

All his life he could never sit still – that's what really got him into trouble, he thought. He'd play around a little bit – a million here and there – and all the sudden eight million dollars was gone and a bunch of people were trying to kill him.

You'd think _someone_ would appreciate the crippling blow he'd dealt to the Aryan Brotherhood.

Leon leaned back in the surprisingly comfortable chair. He was alive, he'd made some new friends and they'd let him help on their latest case, just like those two detectives.

Especially that female detective…

She'd shown up out of nowhere, and nailed that monster Titus with that – Leon didn't know what it was, a grenade launcher or something – weapon, cool as a cucumber, her little nod to John Reese like this was normal, like she took down rampaging bull elephants every day.

She'd saved their lives.

And while Leon couldn't see the look John Reese gave her, if his soft voice when he thanked her and the way she stole a glance at him as he walked away didn't say there was something between them, the way the air crackled around them did. It was so strong, so powerful that even Leon, who'd only spent a few moments in their presence, felt it.

Imagine what it must be like to be around _that_ every day. Reese's friend Finch and the other detective probably wanted to lock the two of them together in a room with some booze, a supersized box of condoms and a mattress and let them go at it, until they got it out of their system – or at least got it down to a dull roar.

John Reese was wound very tight, Leon thought – he needed a good lay – hell, that guy probably needed a hundred good lays before he could even begin to relax, and that detective…beautiful and deadly – was just what John needed.

What any guy needed.

Leon's face grew hot as images of John and the detective twined together flooded his mind.

So many positions, so little time…

Maybe he could join them…no…John was into cameras, maybe he could watch…no…big guys like John get tired, maybe then _he_ could watch…she had her own handcuffs, maybe she could -

Leon slapped his own face, hard. "Bad boy, bad, bad boy!" The dog raised his head, looked at him questioningly. "I meant bad Leon, bad, bad Leon."

He leaned forward to scratch Bear behind the ears and after a few moments, the dog lowered his head back down. As he straightened back up, Leon suddenly noticed a file folder partially hidden by a graph on one of Finch's many screens.

Now this was interesting. A whole bunch of aliases for John. Leon scanned through them – the most complete one was for a John Warren – a workplace, an apartment, documents, photos - the works. Leon then hacked into the NYPD personnel databases, quickly scanning through the photos of detectives until he found her. The two would make an impressive couple, he thought, looking at their credentials.

And they were both so pretty.

He typed in a change to the detective's personnel records, then paused, his right forefinger poised over the Enter key. "What do you think," he said to Bear, as he used his cast to nudge another screen with their photos on it towards the dog. "Your new Mommy and Daddy?"

Bear jumped up and he let out a single happy bark, his tail wagging furiously.

Leon pressed the Enter key.

'John Warren' became her husband the day of the fight in the parking garage. It looked like the detective took some time off right afterwards – just enough time for a brief honeymoon.

Leon knew the change wouldn't last - Finch would thoroughly review every file he accessed, scan every report, check every account – but it amused him to think that Reese's boss would see what he'd done.

If they were pissed, it was their fault – they should have given him something else to do.

Now, some more noodles – or maybe some hot pockets.

"Hot pocket, Bear?"

The dog followed him into the next room.

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What Leon Tao didn't know was that the city was testing a new program to facilitate updates to employee records. With hundreds of programs, thousands of databases and millions of files, a small army of staffers was kept busy trying to keep any changes up to date. On any given day there were marriages, divorces, adoptions, guardianships, insurance updates, address changes, performance reviews, etc. – on and on and on with the city's tens of thousands of employees.

For years, efforts had been made to create a master database or at least link the thousands of databases and files together, but the expense and sheer effort was overwhelming. This new program would simply search each database and file, making the changes. Some record updates would be prioritized – medical insurance for example, while others, such as employee discounts at various businesses around the city would come later.

A random group of employees had been chosen as part of the pilot. A memo had been sent out to every city employee, but like all official missives, there was not a verb to be found in the multi-word, multi-syllable sentences, so it was ignored, including by 99.99 percent of the police department. The officers knew that this program wouldn't make it easier to catch perps or put more money in their paychecks, so they didn't waste time reading the memo. In the past any so-called improvements caused more problems than they solved, so the few officers who did read the document waited cynically for the program to fail.

It didn't – the pilot program ran too well, quietly making its updates not just to the prioritized records, but every other record it could find, even after Finch found and corrected the single change Leon had made.

Jocelyn Carter was one of the employees randomly selected for the pilot program.

There were no massive batch updates, new reports run or change control notices filed, which would have alerted Finch. Leon hadn't changed Joss' last name or her home address, which would have alerted the detective.

'John Warren' was quietly added to every relevant record of Jocelyn Carter's, one at a time.

He was now her husband.

TBC


	2. Chapter 2

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 2

Several days later, Reese had just finished playing flashlight Frisbee in a park with Bear, when he received a text that Taylor had been injured. He kept close tabs on the detective and her son, including monitoring any communications. Putting a leash on the dog, Reese ran to his car. Joss was attending a mandatory all day departmental workshop outside of the city – it would take her at least an hour or more to drive to the hospital, so he decided to go to the emergency room and at least sit with her son until he was attended to.

Reese found Taylor already in one of the examination areas, holding some bloody gauze to his forearm. The teen grinned at him. "It looks worse than it is."

"What happened?"

"Freak thing." He shrugged unconsciously, then winced a little at the sudden movement. Taylor explained that he had been planning to check some first person narratives for a research paper he was doing on the Cuban revolution at a historical society, when an ancient light fixture had suddenly fallen from the ceiling as he walked into the building. The edge of the metal frame holding the fluorescent tubes to the housing had sliced his arm open.

"He's going to need a few stitches," the doctor announced as she walked in, her eyes on a printout. "I understand there's a massive tie up on the Long Island Expressway and that his mother will be delayed. You'll be able to take him home in a bit."

Reese and Taylor looked at each other, but this time Reese shrugged. Joss must have listed him as a point of contact for her son. He smiled to himself at this indication of trust from her. They'd come a long way - from adversaries to friends, he thought as Taylor was being stitched up.

"Your stepson should only need these for one or two days at the most to help him sleep," the doctor smiled as she handed Reese a packet of painkillers and walked out of the room.

The teen waggled his eyebrows at Reese. "So, _Dad_, do I get to play hooky tomorrow?"

"Let's get you home first." Reese smiled. "We need to make a quick stop on the way."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Hours later Joss Carter walked up the stairs to her apartment building. She was tired, she was hungry, her back hurt and her bladder was about to burst.

She wasn't, however, worried. She knew that John Reese was taking very good care of her son.

Joss hadn't added Reese as an approved point of contact on Taylor's medical records, but she assumed that Finch did – it was another example of the two men's sometimes overarching concern for her and her son, but in this case, she was grateful.

Nodding to Reese as she entered the apartment, Joss made a beeline to her son's bedroom, her physical discomforts forgotten. Taylor was sound asleep, his good arm wrapped around Bear, who was snuggled against his body. After quietly checking her son's injury, she slipped out of his room, closing the door behind her.

"Did you think he needed a guard dog, too?" Joss smiled at Reese as she walked back into the living area.

"Most accidents happen at home, Detective. Just wanted to be careful," he smiled back." I gave Taylor a couple of painkillers. He should sleep until morning."

Her doe eyes were shining. "_Thank you_."

"Glad to help." Reese was drowning in those dark pools as they stood there, staring at each other.

Clearing his throat, he asked. "Are you hungry? I could heat up –"

"Yes. I'm just going to…" She turned and went down the hall to her own bedroom.

Reese heard the shower running as he worked in the kitchen. Joss naked - water dripping from rock hard nipples, coursing over that incredible ass, spilling between her long thighs – pressing his forehead against the cool refrigerator door, Reese willed his raging hard on back into submission. Maybe someday, he thought, but not today.

His lips quirked – but if Joss stayed in the shower any longer, _she_ might need Bear's protection.

As if the detective had read his mind, the water stopped. Minutes later, Reese was setting the table as Joss walked back into the living room. Her hair was loose and she had on a red sweater and flowing yellow pants that skimmed over her stocking feet. While Reese couldn't imagine a color Joss wouldn't look good in, the warm bright hues especially suited her beautiful dark skin.

"Wow – you cooked all of this? It looks fantastic." Joss laughed as she slid into her seat. "Salad, pasta, meatballs, rolls, hot veggies – did you buy out the grocery store?"

"I used to be a teenage boy, Joss. You're lucky there's some food left." Reese went into the kitchen and brought out a pitcher of ice water.

He drank coffee, trying not to be ridiculously pleased as Joss attacked her food with gusto. After she finished eating, Reese stepped back into the kitchen, taking her slippers down from the top of the refrigerator. He placed them on the floor beside her, smiling sheepishly. "I forgot that I put them up there."

"I thought Bear had gotten them." Like a lot of folks, Joss kept a pair of slippers just inside her front door that she could put on the moment she got home. Bear had already eaten two pairs on previous visits.

"It was close – he loves your shoes and Finch's first editions."

Joss stood up, stepping into her slippers and started clearing the table. "Well, I can't speak for the first editions, but a woman's shoes? Guess he's just like you…" she smirked, moving past him, "loves to live dangerously."

They settled on the couch after cleaning the kitchen, sipping beers, not needing to talk, with only the light from the hallway casting a soft glow over the living area. So this is how normal people live, Reese thought - good food, warm conversation, a sleeping child - the quiet assurance that they'd have tomorrow. For once he wasn't the one looking in, the one wondering what that life would be like. Without realizing it, for a few hours today, Jocelyn Carter had given him a precious gift.

He reached out, took her hand.

Joss was asleep.

Reese stood up, covered her with a throw hung over the back of the couch.

Silently he walked into Taylor's room, leash in hand. Bear opened one eye, whimpered in protest.

"Me too, buddy, me too."

A/N: Next Joss' co-workers find out about her 'marriage'.


	3. Chapter 3

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 3

A/N: In this chapter, Joss' co-workers find out about her 'marriage'.

That little sneak, Lena Kapolowicz chuckled to herself. Carter was crazy if she thought she was going to get away with this.

Lena had worked for the NYPD as an administrative assistant for so long, nobody could remember when she wasn't there. Well past retirement age, Police Commissioner Liquori had given her special dispensation to stay as long as she wanted. Lena loved her job and kept close tabs on the detectives in the Homicide Task Force, priding herself on knowing everything that went on with the team, so when an insurance claim from the hospital was entered about Detective Carter's son and Lena saw that her colleague had recently gotten married, she was shocked – and thrilled.

She had a soft spot in her heart for the detective. Lena knew what Carter went through on a daily basis, how hard she had worked to become the first and still the only woman on the Homicide Task Force, how hard she worked to stay there.

And while there were those who found Carter brusque and off putting, Lena knew how compassionate and considerate the detective really was. When her husband Tom was dying of cancer two years ago, Carter was there for her. She was the only who understood why Lena came back to work the day after the funeral.

Lena had recently started seeing a gentleman from church. He wasn't her Tom, but he was kind and thoughtful, and that was enough. A woman like Jocelyn Carter, who was still young and vital, should have someone special in her life, Lena had always thought. She had been alone for far too long.

Recently Lena suspected that there was a man – he'd call and Carter's face would change – she would lower her voice and sometimes go into one of the interview rooms to talk to him.

Only someone Carter cared about deeply, Lena knew, could make her _so_ angry.

And now she had married him – wonder of wonders!

"Hey, Lena, Lena, Bobena." Fusco chirped as he walked past her desk.

"I told you not to call me that!" she snapped, casting a baleful eye at Fusco – he'd just shown up one day, leapfrogging over other more deserving detectives who'd waited years to get on the Task Force. She'd heard rumors that he was dirty and he spent far too much too much time with that walking hatchet, Patrick Simmons.

He must have pictures, Lena thought sourly, unaware how close she was to the truth as to how Lionel had gotten assigned to the team.

Sighing, Lena rose from her desk. Fusco was Carter's partner – she'd have to talk to him. And if he called her Lena, Lena, Bobena one more time – well, she'd delayed his paycheck for a month when he first joined the group…

This news warranted a party. Whether Carter wanted it or not.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

"_What_?" Joss had had it. Lionel had been giving her the fish eye all morning, making snarky comments about secrets and holding things back and keeping people in the dark. They had just finished at a crime scene and stopped for coffee before heading back to the precinct. "Just say it, Fusco."

"You. Wonderboy. I'm your partner, Carter. When were you going to tell me?"

"Tell you what?"

"Lena caught me in the hall this morning. She wants me to give a toast at the party." When he saw the dumbfounded look on his partner's face, Lionel laughed out loud. Reese and Finch had pulled some crap before, but this one took the cake. "You're 'married', Carter. Finch hooked you up with one of Reese's aliases, some guy named John Warren."

"No – Finch just added John as a point of contact for Taylor – I told you that, when he hurt his arm."

"He added a lot more than that, Carter. Lena said that you and BOME" – bane of my existence took too long to say - "got married weeks ago. She's going to throw you lovebirds a party."

Joss snatched up her handheld, started clicking through her personnel records. "No…NO… _NO!_" Fusco was right.

For once, Reese and Finch wouldn't need whatever mumbo-jumbo they used to figure out when someone was about to commit murder, Joss thought.

She was going to kill them.

A/N: Next, Finch realizes the extent of the change and Reese fills in Joss.


	4. Chapter 4

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 4

When Reese walked into the library, Finch was furiously pounding away at his keyboard, a look of extreme annoyance on his face.

"Everything ok, Finch?"

"No, Mr. Reese, it is not." Finch had gotten a blistering phone call from Jocelyn Carter two hours ago, but that was not what irritated him. He had listened calmly to her tirade, assured her that he had not implemented the changes and said that he would correct whatever this program was doing right away.

He couldn't fix it. At least not right away.

The program acted like a virus, self-replicating itself and reversing any test changes Finch had made. It had spiraled out of control, leaving the confines of the city departments, seeking out any and every record related to Jocelyn Carter. The 'marriage' was showing up everywhere, including such disparate places as her online college alumni newsletter and her grocer's frequent shopper card, Finch noted, as he explained the situation to his friend. In addition, it was also taking John Warren's records and adding Jocelyn Carter as his wife.

Under the guise of a senior marketing executive eager to sell the program to other municipal departments across the country, he'd spoken to the programing team responsible for this fiasco. Within minutes Finch realized their true talents lay only in their ambition and supreme overconfidence – involving them would only create more problems.

While the changes made to the detective's files and the persona he had created for John were bogus, Finch knew that changes to other employees' records were probably legitimate, so he'd have to make sure whatever he did to correct this, didn't impact them as well.

"It will take some time to rectify this, Mr. Reese, and we have two new numbers. Detective Carter was quite insistent."

Reese shrugged. "They're the priority, Finch. She'll understand."

Finch raised an eyebrow at his partner. "You don't seem at all distressed about this, John."

"There are worse things than being married to a beautiful woman, Harold."

"This beautiful woman is angry - and armed," Finch said with a ghost of a smile.

"My kind of woman. I'll talk to her."

"Yes, I suspect that you will have better luck than I did."

The two men shared a look of understanding.

"Tell me about the new numbers, Finch."

As his partner filled him in, Reese smiled. More time with Joss - if she didn't kill him first.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

The first number was taken care of quickly and the second was ensconced in a safe house, guarded by Fusco. Reese was leaning against the fence under the streetlight in front of Joss's apartment building that evening as she came up the sidewalk.

"Don't talk to me."

"Is that any way to treat your husband, Joss? Communication is," smirking, Reese held up a small tattered paperback, _10_ _Rules for a Happy Marriage, _that he had filched from the library, "the bedrock of any good marriage," he read.

"And I just communicated with you. _Don't. Talk. To. Me_."

Reese pocketed the book, followed her up the stairs. "Joss, Harold tried to explain the situation to you three times, and you kept hanging up on him."

She shook her head as they entered her apartment. When Joss and Fusco had gotten back to the precinct, the two detectives saw that Lena had hung a huge banner in the main hallway announcing her 'marriage'. Joss had spent the rest of the day accepting congratulations and ignoring smutty jokes and innuendoes about being a newlywed. Lena had cornered her in the ladies room and excitedly filled her in on the party plans. Their new captain, who barely seemed to where their department was, much less who his detectives were, actually walked into the bullpen and offered his best wishes, announcing that he had directed Lena to schedule the party on a night when he would be able to attend, since the event would be "a prime opportunity to delineate our high functioning departmental interaction."

When the captain left, Fusco laughed so hard at the look of horror on her face, he cried.

Joss stalked over to the cabinet in the corner of the living room. She needed a drink, a real one.

Reese settled on the couch, stretching out his long legs as Joss unlocked the cabinet. She picked up some scotch and he thought she was going to start guzzling straight from the bottle, but then she seemed to think better of it and poured herself a glass. Quickly downing it, she grimaced, then poured herself some more. Glaring at him, Joss filled a separate glass, then walked over to the couch, handing him the second glass and plopping down beside him.

Reese quietly filled her on what had happened.

"It's not Finch's fault, Joss, and he _is_ trying to fix it."

Joss sighed. "I know, but even if he can, there are a bunch of people who think we're married." She explained what had happened at the precinct. "If I _ever_ see that Leon Tao," for a moment Joss' smile was truly frightening, almost feral, then she leaned back, closing her eyes as the liquor finally hit her. "He's lucky I still don't have that bag of weapons in the trunk of my car."

Reese touched her hand. "How 'bout we get some food in you? Then we'll talk."

"Yeah, ok." She kicked off her shoes and unbuttoned her coat. "I need to get my act together before Taylor comes home."

Reese walked into the kitchen. Putting together a quick meal, he listened as Joss took a shower and changed. When she finally walked back into the living room, her eyes were clear. "I think we should –"

"Food first, Detective, then we'll talk."

Joss raised her eyebrows at him.

"Then we'll talk, _dear_."

She smiled softly as she sat down.

A/N: The FBI suspects there is a mole.


	5. Chapter 5

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 5

FBI agent Nicholas Donnelly didn't want to believe it. Jocelyn Carter a mole for The Man in The Suit? Her record was exemplary – she was the epitome of what a law enforcement officer should be, an attorney, a decorated veteran, for God's sake. If someone like her could be turned, heaven help the rest of us.

Donnelly knew his superiors were unhappy with the time, effort and most importantly, money spent chasing after this man – crippling HR in the spring had gotten good press and allowed everyone to save face after the debacle at the hotel, but his task force had been reduced to almost nothing and doors that used to be open to him were now starting to close, as whispers about him being obsessed had started circulating around the Bureau.

A former mentor had quietly taken Donnelly aside and challenged him on his assertion that there was one man behind all these acts. "Nick, come on – this guy would have to be Rambo, that _Die Hard_ guy and Bond put together. A contract killing, a political assassination, a CIA-backed drug kingpin – is there anything you haven't linked him to?"

"There's evidence – fingerprints, blood, video. We haven't run a DNA test yet, the lab is backed up –" Donnelly chose to ignore the fact that other cases had been moved ahead of his in the lab's queue by senior managment – "but when we do –"

"You say that he has this massive organization behind him – who's to say that the fingerprints and the blood weren't planted to make you chase your tail? And the video's a blurry silhouette, Nick – how many guys in _our_ office fit that description? Look…all I'm saying is that there's probably more than one guy. By focusing on one individual, you're missing out on the big picture. Even if you brought him in, if he's what you say he is, he'll never give up his handlers. They'll have his replacement up and running before you could spit."

Donnelly admitted that his colleague might be right – he wouldn't give up the search, but perhaps it was time to regroup and change focus. He was in the middle of drafting a proposal to alter the direction of the task force and secure more funding, when a member of his team rushed into his office, closing the door behind him. Michael Gertzstoff had been a FBI agent for over twenty years – he was a solid worker, but no superstar.

Gertzstoff said that he had observed Detective Carter meeting with a man who fit the description of the suspect.

"What kind of meetings?" Donnelly waved him to a chair.

"Private meetings, without her partner. They've met at a coffee wagon, a park, a bench along the river."

"He could be a colleague – maybe they don't like being cooped up in an office all day, Michael, even in this weather. If he's a confidential informant – cops keep very tight reins on theirs – I could understand why she wouldn't involve her partner."

Gertzstoff leaned forward. "She runs red lights to meet this guy and the meetings are far from her precinct, like she doesn't want any of her co-workers to know where she's going. No reason to if it's a colleague and if he's a CI, she'd try to avoid _his_ associates, not hers. I checked her phone records – no calls setting up the meetings on her desk or department-issued cell phone, so she must be using another, untraceable unit. On a hunch, I checked her travel. Detective Carter went out of town unexpectedly several weeks ago, supposedly to some little shit town in Texas – there's no record of her or the department paying for her ticket. I'm checking the passenger lists, but I doubt she went alone." Gertzstoff crossed his arms. "You thought that this guy must have had someone on the inside help him get away from the hotel. Suppose it's her."

Donnelly forced himself to consider it. If Gertzstoff was right, it would bolster his case that there was a massive organization behind this man – Jocelyn Carter might not be the only person he'd turned. "We'll handle this ourselves, Michael. Observation _only_. If you're right, we'll stage a takedown the next time they meet."

Late the next morning Gertzstoff called Donnelly. Detective Carter had just left the precinct without her partner. Donnelly pulled into traffic, his heart pounding. All morning he had seen men fitting the description of the suspect – there was even one in the lobby of the FBI offices. He knew he was experiencing a variation of the 'new car' syndrome – when you purchase a new car, all the sudden you see that car everywhere – and he warned himself to stay focused.

The detective didn't appear to be using any evasive driving techniques this morning – perhaps she was becoming overconfident, he thought. Donnelly drove past her as she parked, keeping Detective Carter in sight as he found his own parking space. Getting out of his car, he followed her, carefully staying several steps behind. As he walked along, he saw Gertzstoff approaching from the opposite direction.

Suddenly, a tall man stepped out from behind a coffee wagon, pulled the detective into his arms and kissed her passionately. At first her knees seemed to buckle as she melted into the kiss, but then she pushed him away, laughing, "John!"

Donnelly stood there stunned.

The tall man looked over her shoulder, his blue-gray eyes piercing Donnelly's. "Friend of yours, Joss?"

Detective Carter turned around. Her face was flushed and she looked flustered. "Agent Donnelly…this is my husband, John Warren. John, this is Nicholas Donnelly of the FBI."

Donnelly walked forward, shook the man's outstretched hand. "Husband? I…I didn't know, didn't realize…"

"Some days, I can't believe it either." Detective Carter said dryly.

"When…"

"A few weeks ago," her husband said.

The detective smiled shyly. "The word got out a just few days ago. We met and everything happened so fast, I wanted to keep it private as long as possible, especially from my co-workers. You know how people talk and law enforcement officers are the worst." Her voice softened and she met her husband's eyes, "If this was real…"

The man nodded. "We had to find out on our own."

They stared at the each other for a long moment, then the detective turned back to Donnelly. "With my job and John's travel schedule, it's not always easy to find time to spend together, so..."

"We're just getting a quick cup of coffee – you're welcome to join us," Detective Carter's husband slipped an arm around her waist in a way that clearly stated otherwise, "of course."

"Thank you, but I wouldn't want to intrude. Congratulations." As Donnelly walked back to his car, he passed a vintage clothing store. He did a double take at the old GAP poster one of the staffers was hanging in the window. Now he knew he was losing it – even the model in the poster looked like a younger version of the suspect.

Later that day at the Bureau offices, Donnelly met with a chastened Gertzstoff. It was all legitimate – a marriage license, a short visit to a revered great aunt in Texas, a party planned at one of the cop bars. John Warren's credentials checked out. Even the one wrinkle made sense – Detective Carter had returned from the visit to Texas alone; her husband had a meeting in Maryland, so they travelled back separately – hardly out of the ordinary for a two career couple.

Gertzstoff had hung around and grabbed the man's cup after the couple finished their coffees.

The fingerprints didn't match the ones they had on file.

The Man in a Suit wasn't Detective Carter's husband. And Jocelyn Carter wasn't a mole – she was simply a woman in love.

Alone in his office, Nick Donnelly stared out the window, realizing that his mentor was right. The search for The Man in a Suit had gotten out of control. If he had staged a full takedown this morning and brought in a decorated homicide detective and her husband as terrorism suspects – whatever was left of his career would have been long gone.

He'd call the detective tomorrow, inform her of the shift in focus.

Donnelly began to turn back to his desk, but then thought about what he'd witnessed this morning. Jocelyn Carter dealt in death every day – she knew how precious life was. She might have rushed into marriage, but she had with her husband was real.

He wished her luck.

Turning back to his desk, Donnelly started working on the proposal again.

A/N: Joss reacts to an unplanned kiss.


	6. Chapter 6

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 6

Joss was shaking as she drove back to the precinct. The plan she had outlined that night at dinner had worked.

Nick Donnelly's pursuit of The Man in The Suit had become an obsession – Joss had recognized that look in his eyes the last time she'd spoken to him.

John Reese seemed to have that effect on people.

The detective had heard rumors that Donnelly was looking for a mole - the FBI agent had insisted on securing the blood samples in a separate refrigerated unit and the fingerprints were being kept in a room that held records related to terrorism, not even accessible to Donnelly. It was only a matter of time before he started suspecting her for John's escape from the hotel – she was the one constant in the investigation of the crimes Donnelly had ascribed to the man he was chasing.

She knew she was under surveillance, at least unofficially. Joss had spotted Agent Gertzstoff on at least three occasions following her. He had resented Donnelly's bringing her in on the case, and while he was polite to her face, Fusco had informed her that when he was in the FBI's control room during the hotel debacle, Gertzstoff had proclaimed loudly that all Joss had done was run some fingerprints – the older agent couldn't understand why Donnelly was including her in all their activities.

As she'd stood under the shower the night that Reese explained how they had come to be 'married', her anger and the effects of the liquor draining away in the warm water, Joss knew that she had been off her game, letting the situation at the precinct get away from her – now she'd have to do some serious maneuvering to make whatever solution they came up with work. She thought through several options: an elaborate practical joke? an undercover assignment? maybe even a version of the truth – a computer glitch?

The problem was that Finch had done too good a job creating this John Warren persona. Lena and several of her colleagues had already done online searches on her new 'husband' – they were detectives after all – and the amount of information out there was staggering. If John Warren didn't exist, she thought, he should.

In a flash, the solution came to her.

John didn't laugh or tell her she was crazy when she laid out the plan to him. He sat there for the longest time, not saying a word, and then he nodded. "Hiding in plain sight."

"Yeah. If we try to make this go away, someone will get suspicious. Leave it alone and…"

They talked through the plan before Taylor came home, then set up a late night meeting in the surveillance room at the safe house with Finch and Fusco.

"So you're saying that organizational tribalism will work to our advantage, Detective," Finch mused after Joss and John laid out the scheme.

"Surprised that rich people aren't the only snobs, Finch?"

"Actually, Mr. Reese, it's a common phenomenon. We all want to feel that our chosen group is somehow special. Anyone outside the group –"

"Falls off the radar," Joss cut in. "John Warren's not a cop, or a firefighter, or an EMT or even an attorney. He's just some finance dork, a guy who sits behind a desk all day, while real people work." She smirked at Reese's raised eyebrow. "If we can get through this party, they'll forget about John Warren. It will also help us get rid of the other issue we have with Agent Donnelly."

Fusco finally asked the million dollar question. "You'd have to stay married for a while. You think you both can do that?"

They were sitting side by side. John picked up his chair and placed it across from her, so that they were facing each other. When she looked at his eyes, she'd thought she'd see determination, or amusement or even recklessness, but what she saw instead was a calm confidence. "I can." He paused, and the calm confidence was gone. His eyes were questioning, uncertain. "What about you, Joss? You also have Taylor and your mother to consider."

She nodded. "Taylor is already aware that something is going on because of the change in the medical records. He'll accept the marriage if we tell him it's a way to keep John safe. After what happened with Elias…" Joss looked away, the terror of that day slamming into her, almost as searing and raw as when it happened.

She felt John take her hand in his - she squeezed it gratefully. "Taylor will be fine. My mother will be a challenge, but we'll deal with it. Fortunately she's on a cruise, so she'll miss the party."

"Yes," Joss met John's eyes. She knew she had to answer the question for herself. "I can."

The room got very quiet as the four of them absorbed what was happening.

Finch stood. "The changes I need to make are fairly simple. I'll get started right away."

"Yeah, the quicker we get this marriage on the road, the quicker you can get divorced, Carter." Fusco's eyes slid towards Reese. "Then you can bitch with your coworkers about your crazy, whack job ex, just like everyone else on the Task Force." The team had one of the highest divorce rates in the NYPD, already well above the national average.

"Another example of 'high functioning departmental interaction', Fusco?"

"More like 'team bonding dynamics', Carter. You need to keep up."

They set the plan in motion, addressing each issue.

The so-called clandestine meetings and a separate phone? Private moments between a newly married couple.

John Warren? Finch and John had already established a persona, including an office and an apartment.

The trip to Texas? A blessing from a revered great aunt who passed away shortly after.

Finch easily filed a marriage license online. The computer controlling the temperature on the refrigerated unit was hacked into – the digital readout said one thing, while the actual temperature was much higher. The blood samples would be severely degraded, useless for the DNA test. Since Donnelly had insisted on storing them separately, the technicians had no reason to access the unit, relying on the digital printouts to confirm that the samples were safe.

The one wrinkle was the fingerprints, but Reese had the solution. Prints from another man were adhered to micro thin pads that were affixed to his fingers. Reese wore gloves when he shook Donnelly's hand, taking them off only when he cupped Joss' face to kiss her good-bye. He then grabbed his coffee cup with his bare hand and tossed it in a trash bin, knowing that Donnelly's man would pick it up and run the fingerprints. The bogus prints had already been added to John Warren's records.

Taylor had unwittingly provided the final touch from his work on his research paper, mentioning the theory that Fidel Castro had employed lookalikes to foil the many assassination attempts against him. New York was filled with models, actors and unemployed white collar types who fit John's description – wearing dark suits, these men would be seen in various spots around the city, including those frequented by Agent Donnelly, for the next few weeks, thinking they were auditioning for a proposed reality show. The Man in The Suit would be everywhere and nowhere, keeping Donnelly off balance, chasing shadows.

The scheme had worked, but that wasn't why Joss was shaking. Taking several deep breaths, she forced herself to calm down, to think about what had happened.

John had kissed her.

Passionately, deeply, unreservedly kissed her.

Joss had expected the chaste goodbye kiss – they had planned that. But the other kiss – the one that made her knees buckle, caused her to tingle all over, made her want to drag him into some deserted spot and have her way with him – she hadn't expected that at all.

The tactical, calm, rational part of Joss recognized that the emotion of that kiss had sold the whole charade – without it, Donnelly might have questioned their story.

The other part of Joss – vulnerable, yearning, hopeful – the part that laughed out of sheer joy when she pushed him away, the part she had kept buried for so long, recognized that something was happening between her and John Reese - if she was honest, had been happening for a long time.

If it was just sex, she could have handled it. Despite what her friends and co-workers thought, Joss did occasionally get an itch scratched – she had had several low key relationships over the years, where they both knew what they wanted.

There were no complications, no expectations, no pain.

With John there were all those things and so much more, from the moment she met him.

And this so-called marriage had brought it all out in the open.

Her phone rang. It was Lionel.

"Everything ok?"

"Yeah…Marriage sucks, Fusco."

He chuckled. "You just figured that out, Carter? We got a new case." Fusco gave her the address.

"I'll be there in ten min - "

"Marriage sucks, but when it works…guess that's why we all keep tryin'."

Her voice softened. "When did you become a philosopher?"

"I've always been deep, Carter – don't say it," he warned with a laugh. "See you there."

A/N: Next, John goes into dangerous territory.


	7. Chapter 7

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 7

A/N: John goes into dangerous territory.

"You want to see the dress I bought for the party." Joss raised her eyebrows. "_Really_?"

Dinner was over, the kitchen was clean and Taylor had gone to study with friends. They were alone.

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't want to see it, Detective."

Joss stood there, as if she was going to say something and then she walked slowly towards her bedroom. "I'll be right back."

She had been so beautiful this morning, Reese thought, striding determinedly towards him, eyes bright, smiling despite, or more likely because of, the danger. Kissing Joss had been the most natural thing in the world, her lips soft and warm despite the cold, her soft curves molding against his body. When she laughed aloud, he felt full, complete.

Happy.

They had not spoken about what had happened this morning and he knew not to push her. It was enough that she gave him a long look when she opened her apartment door this evening, the color rushing to her cheeks, before she stepped back and let him in.

"John…" she sounded exasperated. "Can you come in here?"

Joss was standing in front of her closet, her hands behind her neck, trying to close a clasp on the back of her new dress. "I can't… get this."

It was the first time he had ever been in her bedroom.

Plump embroidered pillows, a fluffy rug, a silk kimono draped across the foot of the bed, a curtain of crystals hung across the windows. Deep rich colors of red, gold, amber, royal blue.

Soft, sensual, tactile. You'd lean back against the thick pillows, run your fingers over the rich fabrics, watch the patterns of light and dark as the crystals danced in a spring breeze.

A room you wanted to sleep late in, eat ice cream in, listen to a summer storm in.

A room you could talk in, make love in, seek comfort in.

A room where you could confess and not be judged.

A room that would make you strong enough to handle the horrors this world could bring.

This was a part of Joss he had kissed today, the part that had bubbled up with that laugh. The part that helped her be the strong, principled warrior that she was.

Reese stood behind her, closed the clasp.

"Thanks." She waved him away. "Go stand over there."

The dress was pretty, safe, boring.

Wrong.

If they were going to sell this sudden marriage at the party, her co-workers would have to see the woman who lived in this room.

Joss tilted her head at him. "Ok, I know you usually don't say a lot, but you gotta say something, John."

"It's…" Reese grimaced, "like the rest of your clothes, Joss."

"_What's wrong with my clothes," _her eyes raked up and down his dark suit and white shirt, "penguin boy?"

"Aside from the fact that you actually wear them – nothing," he shot back.

Before she could say anything else, Reese swiftly crossed the room, standing close to her. "It's just that…you're a beautiful woman, Joss. Your clothes should reflect that." Suddenly, his eyes gleamed, teeth flashing as he challenged her. "Let me pick out something for you."

She crossed her arms, snorted. "You? I thought Finch dressed you."

"Well, then it's time for me to pay it forward."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XXXXXXXXXXXX

Joss hated to admit that John was right.

It was a suit. An absolutely stunning, elegant, yet incredibly sexy suit.

Dark red, the slim skirt showed off her long legs and curvy rear end, hugging her narrow waist. The neckline of the short jacket was an architectural wonder, curving high around the back of her neck, then dipping down and opening in a long teardrop over her chest with just a hint of her cleavage exposed. And the flare at the end of the sleeves drew attention to her slender hands and the ring that everyone would get their first look at tonight.

A simple pair of diamond earrings and sky-high black stilettos completed the look.

It was perfect, just perfect.

Leaning forward, Joss tousled her hair, gave herself one last look in the bedroom mirror, and then walked out into the living area.

John was standing there waiting for her, perfectly still, his face a smooth mask.

They stood there for a long moment, staring at each other.

And then he smiled. It was the most smug, I-told-you-so, I'm-the-man, Give-me-my-props smile she had ever seen, a smile that deserved to be slapped off his face, if it wasn't so true.

Joss tried not to smile back, but she couldn't help it. "Beginner's luck, John."

"Then imagine," he stepped close to her, "what I could do with a little bit of practice, Detective." The smile was gone, his eyes dark, serious. "You look incredible, Joss."

"You don't look so bad yourself, penguin boy." If possible, the suit was blacker, the shirt whiter, emphasizing his height and broad shoulders. "Sure about the tie?" It was the same color as her suit.

He adjusted his collar. "For one night. We 'finance dorks' tend to wear them."

They drank in each other with their eyes for a moment longer and then Reese offered his arm. "Ready?"

She slipped her arm in his. "Let's go."

A/N: Next, the party.


	8. Chapter 8

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 8

Rather than a narrative, this chapter has a bunch of conversations and short scenes, similar to the atmosphere you would find at a gathering like this. Detective Terney (last seen in the season 2 episode C.O.D., he was the detective who greeted Joss in Central Park), Detective Kane (he has appeared in several episodes; in the pilot, he was the one to tell Joss that Anton and his gang got "taken out by one guy, in a suit"), LaBlanca from SID (she appeared in the season 1 episode Flesh and Blood), Detective Szymanski and a few other folks will make an appearance.

XXX

Lena Kapolowicz had chosen well. Cavanaugh's had served NY's Finest proudly for decades. There had never been an attempt to bring in a 'younger (or in other words, richer) crowd', theme nights or a game room. The food was hot, the service was good and they didn't skimp on the alcohol. Drinks were flowing and a sizable crowd had already gathered in the room Lena had reserved in the back of the bar as the newlyweds walked in.

XXX

"It's a _Victorian_ ring, Terney – don't you know anything?" Lena winked at Reese as she stretched out Joss' arm to the older detective. "John's family has had it for generations. His great aunt gave it to them as part of her blessing right before she died."

Detective Raymond Terney's silver hair gleamed as he leaned forward to closely examine the ring. "Carter, if I had known you'd accept hand-me-downs, I'd have gone after you myself. I've got some jewelry my ex left that you'd like better than this old thing," he joked.

"Which ex, Terney – you've been married three times!" LaBlanca laughed, joining the group.

He thought for a minute. "All of them."

LaBlanca hugged Joss. "Don't listen to him, Carter. Let's see this 'hand me down'."

The ring was beautiful, the stone a heart shaped ruby, set in a gold band carved with intricate scrollwork. Since it was supposedly passed on by a family member, there was no receipt, no transaction for someone to look for. The heirloom nature of the ring meant that no one would question Joss' not wearing it in her duties as a homicide detective, keeping her changed status low-key. Her co-workers would only see the ring at those rare department functions, like this.

"Try it on," Joss handed the ring to her.

LaBlanca struggled to put it on her ring finger, settling for letting it perch on her pinky.

"They were so tiny back then, but it fits you perfectly," LaBlanca marveled, as Joss slid the ring back on her finger.

"Just like it was made for her," Reese said, as he squeezed her hand.

XXX

"I guess she can't testify against you now, huh, Wonderboy?"

"In that case, Lionel, I should have married you. We already act like an old married couple. You tried to kill me – twice."

"You shot me!" Fusco hissed.

"You had a vest on – they were love taps."

"Yeah, love hurts…Our girl looks good, doesn't she?"

Reese and Fusco stood against a wall, watching Joss work the room. As expected, once Joss' co-workers had given him the once over, he was pretty much dismissed as 'Carter's husband'. All eyes were on Joss, and there were more than a few men here tonight who deeply regretted never making a move on her.

Reese watched as those eyes lingered on her body, working their way up from those gleaming long legs, legs that you wanted to lick to see if the skin was as soft and smooth as it looked, to those thick black tresses that you wanted to bury your face in while your cock thrust deep inside her.

He knew that they were imagining grinding their hips against hers as their hands kneaded her lush ass, their lips tasting the full breasts that she tried to hide under those thick vests and bulky jackets.

They wanted to undress her slowly, caressing every inch of her body and they also wanted also rip her clothes off, buttons flying everywhere.

They wanted her to curse, beg and to plead, to whisper, laugh and to sigh.

They wanted to make love to her in the cool light of the morning, the shimmering heat of the afternoon and the rich darkness of night.

They wanted to know the sounds she made when she came, and they wanted to be the one to make her come.

He knew they were thinking those things as he watched them, because he was thinking all those things and more.

The limbic part of his brain, the part of us that controls our most basic, elemental needs and desires, wanted to grab Joss, bend her over a table and take her right now in the middle of the room to show them that she was his, to claim her so completely that they would never look at her that way again.

The more rational part of his brain realized that while that would have made the celebration very memorable, it would have defeated the purpose of Joss' plan.

Reese tore his eyes away from her. "Very good."

"I know this 'marriage' is…," Lionel shrugged. "Don't hurt her. If you do…the other times I tried to kill you - practice."

Reese looked at Joss again. She was hugging her mentor, the fire fighter who helped solve the murder of baby Leila's mother.

She was better than he hoped for, better than he dreamed of, better than he deserved.

Reese looked Lionel straight in the eye. "If I do, I'll let you."

The two men nodded at each other.

They stood there companionably for a while and then Fusco gave Reese a wry smile. "You'd actually let me?"

"I'd at least let you try, Lionel." Reese smiled.

XXX

"You know that rubies were the victims of the first big marketing conspiracy. They were the preferred stone for wedding and engagement rings – symbolized the heart - then the diamond mines formed a cartel and – _What_?" Detective Kane said to the eye rolls and exasperated expressions.

"You've never met a conspiracy that you didn't like, Kane. I heard 'em all at least ten times over - and that was back when we were at the Police Academy," Detective Bill Syzmanski kissed Joss on the cheek, then shook Reese's hand, no recognition in his eyes.

"Everybody's got their pet conspiracy, even Carter. Aren't you still after that guy in a suit?" Kane asked.

"That got taken over by the FBI – they're focusing on the organization they think he works for now," Joss answered, firmly keeping her eyes away from Reese's.

Kane threw up his hands. "Like that will work – you can't trust a bunch of bureaucrats to go after another bunch of bureaucrats! Did I tell you about…"

XXX

Zoe Morgan walked up to a group of detectives whose tongues were practically hanging out, staring at Joss. "She was right in front of your cocks the entire time, boys. And you call yourselves _detectives_."

As she kissed Joss' cheek, Zoe whispered, "Well played, Jocelyn. If you ever want a career change, look me up." She leaned closer. "By the way, John was absolutely, incredibly, unbelievably…" her lips almost touched Joss' ear, "_faithful_ to you when we were out in the suburbs."

Joss didn't say a word.

Zoe smiled softly. "But you already knew that." She walked away.

XXX

Detective Cal Beecher stood across the street from Cavanaugh's. He'd once had a casual relationship with Carter, but when he tried to take things further, she kindly, but firmly told him that she wasn't interested in anything more. Now Carter had married some guy who, according to department scuttlebutt, she had just met a few months ago.

Beecher had fully intended to attend tonight's celebration, offer his best wishes and get a good look at the man who had succeeded where he failed, but as he stood across the street, waiting for a break in the traffic, he saw a flash of red through the bar's windows.

Carter had stepped out of the room where the celebration was being held to walk an older man, whom he recognized as her mentor, to the bar's entrance.

The detective watched as she said goodbye to her old friend. She looked beautiful and more importantly, Beecher noted, she looked happy.

He turned up his collar against the cold and walked away.

XXX

"John."

"Zoe."

"You didn't tell me that I was committing bigamy when you asked me to marry you, John."

Reese smirked. "The wife is always the last to know. What brings you here - besides offering your best wishes, of course."

Zoe's eyes scanned the crowd. "I heard that there might be some interesting guests here tonight and I need to make a delivery. In fact…"

A hush came over the room as the captain walked in followed by several senior officers including the Police Commissioner.

"So much for 'high functioning departmental interaction'," Fusco whispered to Joss. "We're puttin' on a show for the brass."

XXX

Fusco ignored the speech that Lena had carefully written out for him, revealing his inner Henny Youngman. His toast trotted out every old chestnut about marriage, ending with "and may the only ups and downs your marriage has is between the sheets," as he handed Joss a large gift bag.

Lena decided she was going to delay his paycheck for six weeks this time.

XXX

The new captain called Joss 'Joyce', 'Lynne', and 'Cartier' during his long winded congratulations.

As Police Commissioner Liquori was making a mental note to ream out the selection committee who promoted this man, Zoe Morgan passed him an envelope. The fixer had found the location and combination of a safe that contained incriminating information about the deputy commissioner's wife and her young lover, information that the Commissioner intended to use to keep his ambitious subordinate in line.

He flicked his eyes at one of his aides, who used his handheld to transfer Zoe's fee into her account. She nodded and then vanished into the night.

XXX

Kane's congratulations included an impressive array of vibrators, dildos and other sex toys he claimed that Joss had thrown out now that she was a married woman.

LaBlanca discretely slipped one of the vibrators in her purse, then realized Szymanski had seen her. He raised his glass in salute. She smiled and walked over to his table, sitting down next to him.

Terney realized that his ex-wives had not only discarded their old jewelry when they left him.

XXX

Lena walked to the front of the room and there was something in her stance and the look in her eyes that caused the crowd to become very quiet.

"When I was a girl, I asked my grandmother about what being a woman is, and she told me about the devil and the angel."

Her voice had taken on the timbre and the tone of her ancestors.

"There is the devil and the angel."

"Only women are born with the capacity to be both."

"The world says, you must choose, and so most women do."

"The rare woman, the brave woman, the strong woman decides to be both – to do the wrong thing when she knows that it is right, to stand with her friends and to stand alone, to walk away and to return, to bring death and to bring life, to die for something and to live when there is nothing left."

"She is the devil that a man can make the most passionate love to, and the angel he can hold in his arms forever."

"Men want her, but they are afraid, because they must be as strong and as brave and as rare to have her. So they scorn her, and they belittle her and they try to make her weak, they try to make her choose."

"They cannot break her."

"And the woman who is the devil and the angel walks alone. But if she stays true to herself, she will meet a man who is as rare and as strong and as brave as she is. When they come together, it will not be easy, but it will be good - very, very good."

Lena took Joss' hand. "Carter is such a woman and she has walked alone for a long time. She stayed true to herself when I know it must have been hard. I look at her and her husband and I know that he is the right one. I know he will never try to make her choose. He is as brave and as strong and as rare as she is."

She turned to Reese and her eyes were soft. "The way he looks at her, with such fire in his eyes. And the way he talks to her with such tenderness. He will treat her as if she is precious, but not as if she is weak."

She turned back to Joss, her eyes twinkling. "And the way she looks at him, as if she wants to kiss him and slap him at the same time. She will keep him grounded and she will help him soar."

"Their marriage will not be easy, but it will be good – very, very good."

"Hell, yeah," someone yelled from the back.

Lena kissed Joss on both cheeks, then to the amazement and cheers of everyone in the room, kissed Reese full on the mouth. She ran her finger over his lips and you knew she was seeing someone else.

"Go, love each other, and leave the rest of us to drink and memories."

A/N: TBC


	9. Chapter 9

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 9

"You know Lena's story, Joss?," Reese asked, as they waited for Finch at the diner.

Joss poured herself a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table. "When her husband was dying, she told me about her past. Most people don't know that Lena is in her eighties. She fought the Nazis when she was still practically a kid. Went through a lot, things that only she and her husband knew."

Reese nodded. "She felt you would understand."

"Yeah…" Joss looked down at her coffee for a long moment. "And I think that with his passing, Lena wanted at least one other person in the world to know, someone else to remember." She raised her head and smiled softly at Reese. "He was tall and dark haired, like you. They fought together, got separated after the war, but then over time, they found each other."

Reese smiled back. "I can see why he looked for her. She's a good kisser, Joss."

"I saw that. Stepping out on me already, John." Joss laughed, looked away, then met his eyes again.

Finch made his way over to their booth. "Judging by the noise level, it sounded as if the celebration went well tonight. It was a little difficult to follow with all the activity in the room."

After reviewing the events of the evening, they talked through the next steps. John Warren's apartment was on the market – Reese would keep his own place, but Joss and Taylor would be moving to a larger apartment in line with the income of a two career couple. A selection of men's clothing and personal items had been delivered to Joss' apartment tonight, as if her new husband was spending time there, if not living yet there fulltime.

Joss added. "I finally spoke to my mother this afternoon – she was shocked, and of course concerned with the impact on Taylor, but she's dealing, as she said, with 'this latest attempt by my daughter to give me a heart attack'."

Reese tilted his head. "She take you on a guilt trip?"

"She filled a few bags for the journey – a few duffel bags and a steamer trunk, actually. And don't think you're off the hook – she's got at least," her lips quirked, "a backpack for 'that man you married.'"

"They're still going strong at Cavanaugh's – they won't remember their own names tomorrow, forget about remembering Carter's new husband." Fusco bustled over to the booth. As he sat down, the bag he was carrying caught against the edge of the table and several sex toys almost fell out.

"Plans, Lionel?" Reese drawled.

Fusco blushed and pushed the items back down in the bag. "Kane got all this stuff from the IRS raiding that sex shop a while back – he was passing them out like Skittles and this lady I've been seeing, Rhonda - well – "

"Please stop, Mr. Fusco." Finch cut in, but his lips were twitching.

The four of them all looked down at their coffees, trying not to smile.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX XX

Reese followed Joss into her apartment, watching her as she kicked off her shoes and stepped, sighing, into her slippers. She walked into the middle of the living area and just stood there, motionless.

He laid the gift bag on the coffee table. "Are you alright, Joss?"

She whispered, "We did it, John. Fooled everybody – the FBI, NYPD, my son, my mother. Maybe even," she took a long shaky breath, "fooled ourselves."

Reese walked up behind her, standing so close to her that he could feel the heat from her body. "Is that what you believe, Joss?"

"Yes." She took another deep, shaky breath. "No."

He touched her arm, and she stiffened, but before he could draw his hand away, Joss leaned back against him. Reese wrapped his arms around her and she covered his arms with her own.

He held her in the semi-darkness, knowing there were things to be said, but not knowing where to start, cursing himself as the words lodged in his throat. They stood there for a long time and then Reese finally said, "It's been a long night, Joss. You should go to bed."

"Between the adrenaline, booze and coffee, I don't think I can sleep." Turning around, she took his hand. "Lie down with me."

Joss led him into that wondrous bedroom, closing the door behind them. Kicking off her slippers, she pulled down the comforter, stretched out on the bed. Reese slipped out of his shoes and lay down beside her. They drew the comforter over their bodies and then they put their arms around each other again.

"Tell me…something from when you were a little boy," she whispered.

Haltingly, Reese began to tell her about his childhood, names and places that he hadn't spoken of, thought about, hadn't even dreamed of in years, the words sounding thick and foreign on his tongue. Every time he thought she had drifted off, she would ask him to go on, and so he talked and talked until dawn and her deep, even breathing told him that she had finally fallen asleep.

He held her while she slept, watching the light stream through the crystals hanging across the windows as the sun rose.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Joss awoke alone several hours later. She stretched under the comforter, inhaling John's scent on the pillow.

John Reese had made love to her, but they had not kissed, thrown off their clothes or touched each other in that way, she had not taken him into her body. He had made love to her in the way that he held her, in the way that his lips touched her hair, in the way that he told her things that she knew he had not shared with anyone for a long, long time.

And even though her hair was tangled, her makeup was smeared and her new suit was twisted and wrinkled, she felt beautiful. And when she stepped in front of the bedroom mirror, she looked beautiful.

She looked like a woman who was loved.

Tears sprang to her eyes, and for the first time in a long time, Joss let them fall. She sat down on the bed and let the emotions of the last few days cascade through her, letting them all burn away with her tears, until there was one, strong and rich and deep and powerful, left.

A/N: Next, a true marriage.


	10. Chapter 10

An Accidental Husband – Chapter 10

To the casual observer, it might have seemed like a typical Saturday for Joss. She spent time with her son, slipping an extra twenty dollar bill into his pocket as he went off to spend the rest of the day with a classmate's family. She cleaned, ran errands, paid bills. She laid out her clothes for next week, carefully hanging them by day in her closet. She emptied her email queue, reviewed legal journals. She roasted a chicken for Sunday dinner.

Only two things were out of the ordinary – she packed a small suitcase, and every once in a while she re-read a text message, which contained only a time and the name of a car service company, smiling softly each time she read it.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"And how often does the owner, you said his name was Crane, right, visit the inn?" Joss asked.

"Oh, a few times a year, usually during the fall and spring migrations. We stay open year round unlike a lot of other places along the coast, just in case he decides to pop in for a few days, " the innkeeper replied, carrying Joss' suitcase as she followed him up the stairs. "He's done a lot to restore the native bird population in this area. If it wasn't for him, this place would have been bulldozed, the wetlands would have been filled in and there'd be a huge resort here instead."

"It's gorgeous. I'm surprised you don't have any other guests."

"Well…" the innkeeper smiled conspiratorially. "Mr. Crane is very particular about who stays here. In fact, you're the first guest we've had in months….here we are."

He led Joss into a large room, beautifully restored and meticulously maintained like everything else in this former Victorian mansion that sat on a bluff overlooking the ocean. A fire was cheerily burning, the covers on the enormous four poster bed had already been turned down and the curtains on the French doors that led out to a balcony were pulled back so that you could see the rolling waves.

After the innkeeper left, Joss unpacked her suitcase. She had also brought the gift bag from the party, and she pulled out an exquisite black corset, garter belt and coordinating accessories. There was a separate box and she smiled, recognizing Lena's flowing handwriting on the gift tag. Inside was a beautiful pair of red shoes.

She undressed, bathed and anointed her body. Walking back into the bedroom, Joss picked up the corset, but as she loosened the laces, the clouds parted, revealing the full moon shining on the water. Shoving all the gifts back in the bag except for the red heels, she slipped the shoes on, then walked over to the French doors, opened them, and holding onto the doorknobs, leaned out onto the balcony.

Joss stood there, letting the wind course over her naked body as she watched the moonlight dance on the water.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

John Reese's ability to move silently had saved his life on more occasions than he could remember. Tonight it allowed him to see the incredible vision on an inn balcony.

He hadn't slept, his back and shoulder ached from a hard fall saving today's number and on top of it the intended victim was more upset that the ploy the murderer used to lure him to a deserted office building – NY Jets season tickets – was fake than the fact that someone wanted to kill them.

Of course, Reese couldn't help reminding him that it had been over forty years since the Jets had won a Super Bowl.

It had been a long day, but a single word kept him focused.

Yes.

Joss had texted him that one word in response to his text.

Reese looked at that word one more time, then took one of the cars from Finch's fleet and drove to the inn. He knew that Joss had arrived safely at the inn and as he walked into the lobby, the innkeeper nodded as he tossed him an access card to the room.

He wanted to take the stairs three at a time, but years of training had him moving up the staircase and down the hall silently and Reese entered the room without making a sound.

The sight in front of him took his breath away.

Joss naked, except for a pair of red heels, leaning forward into the night wind.

Reese's eyes travelled slowly up her body, from her delicate ankles, toned legs and luscious rear end to her long black hair swirling around her shoulders, as he memorized every inch of the scene before him.

"I…"he cleared his throat, "I'm a tad overdressed, Joss."

She turned, giving him a full view of her beautiful face, full breasts and the tantalizing triangle between her thighs. "I didn't realize you were here. The Man in The Suit and the woman in her birthday suit. Yeah, I guess you are."

Joss closed the French doors. "They gave me some wonderful lingerie, but as I was about to put it on, I realized they were for Mrs. John Warren. Mrs. John Warren isn't here." She began walking across the room. "She's not the woman that you held in your arms or the one that you asked to come here tonight. We're not the Warrens." Joss stood in front of him, her eyes serious, intent. "We're two people who need to say things to each other – just this once. Then…you'll truly be my husband, and I'll truly be your wife. It won't matter that this marriage is fake." She took a deep breath. "John, I –"

Reese placed his finger on her lips, stopping her. He leaned forward, placing his forehead against hers for a moment, and then he whispered three words in her ear. He lifted her chin, whispering those three words again as he kissed her, his lips moving softly over hers as he said those words again and again, shuddering as she echoed him, her small hands pushing his jacket off his shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt, his clothes falling in a tangle around their feet.

They said those words over and over again as Reese swept Joss up and carried her to the bed, running his hands from those red heels to her full red lips as she stretched out on the sheets. He lay down beside her and they said those words again as their bodies twined together, as she parted her legs and he entered her, as they cleaved together and became one, as they cried out together and as they finally, hours later, fell into a deep, blissful slumber, safe in each other arms.

XXXXXXXX

Joss had always enjoyed looking at John Reese, but this morning was a special pleasure. He was naked, his oh-so-carefully coiffed hair was tousled and there were marks on his skin where her red heels had dug into his back. She watched as he rose from the bed, enjoying the twist and play of his muscles as he placed another log on the fire, coaxing the flames back to life.

Joss' lips quirked as he checked in with Finch, her mind concocting an imaginary split screen as she visualized John's partner in his three-piece finery having a serious conversation with the man standing before her.

"Finch was able to track down that Cuban émigré that Taylor wanted to talk to. They're meeting him at noon." John turned to her, smirking as though he had read her mind after he'd hung up the call.

Taylor and Finch had formed a special friendship after the kidnapping – her son had texted her that he was meeting the older man for lunch today. Joss smiled. "Classified documents, interviews. What's next, a secret field trip to the island?"

"They'd be down and back before we knew it." John sat down next to her. "Finch likes looking out for the people he cares for."

He ran his hand through her hair. Joss shivered as his fingers traced along her jawline, down her neck and over her clavicle, back arching as he cupped her breast. She watched as he leaned forward, his tongue slowly circling her areola first in one direction, then again in the opposite direction.

Joss gasped as he touched the just the tip of his tongue to the tip of her nipple, then groaned as he took it into his mouth, at first sucking gently then with more force as her hips began thrusting forward. All the sudden John bit the other nipple and the sight of his sharp white teeth tugging on her dark brown peak sent her over the edge. She fell back as an orgasm surged through her, then lay there, her eyes half closed, as he settled between his legs.

John took his rigid cock in his hand and ran the head of it back and forth over her glistening essence, teasing her to another release. "You're so wet, Joss," he whispered, "so beautifully, beautifully wet." He ran his fingers along his mouth, closing his eyes for a moment, as he tasted her.

Joss turned over, getting down on all fours, parting her legs, chuckling as he moaned at the sight of her quivering vulva. "Jesus, Joss..." John knelt behind her, running his hands down her back, tracing her tattoo, then curving over her rear end, squeezing the silky skin.

"I want you deep inside me, John."

He growled and then entered her. Joss sighed as John thrust inside her, filling her and then withdrawing again, the sounds of their bodies moving together merging with their moans of pleasure.

They reached the pinnacle together and then fell forward, exhausted.

Later that day, Joss modeled the corset and garter belt outfit, and while John appreciated it, he asked her to wear the red shoes again – twice - and they both agreed that they liked that outfit even more.

XXXXXXXX

Six months later Joss and Finch sat on a park bench watching Reese, Taylor and Bear play an intense game of fetch.

"So…were you telling the truth about not being able to fix that program right away?"

Finch turned his body to look at her.

"It was something John said the night when he told me what happened with my personnel records. I didn't realize it until a long time afterwards. He said that you were _trying_ to fix it."

Finch raised an eyebrow. "What are you saying, Detective?"

"Finch, you're like Yoda in a three piece suit – you don't _try_. You do or you don't do*. I can't see you being out played by some runaway program that the city dumped three weeks later."

He smiled. "So are you saying I'm incompetent or that I'm a meddler, Jocelyn? Neither one is very complimentary."

Joss looked across the field, sharing a long look with Reese as Taylor and Bear went after a ball that had rolled down the hill. "I'm saying that you look out for the people you care for, Harold." Turning her face back to Finch's she gave him a soft smile. "Dinner on Sunday?"

"I'll look forward to it, Mrs. Warren."

They both turned to watch the game.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

It was well after midnight. Bear padded quietly to Taylor's room and jumped into bed beside the young man, snuffling happily. Reese closed the door and moved silently down the hall to the master bedroom.

He slipped into the bed. His wife rolled over, nuzzling his neck.

"Joss, it's three o'clock in the morning."

"Get naked, husband."

He smiled wolfishly. "Yes, dear."

*Yoda - "Do or do not…there is no try." The Empire Strikes Back (1980)


End file.
